


Silk

by Kedavranox



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Double Penetration, Light Bondage, Multi, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-05 07:52:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kedavranox/pseuds/Kedavranox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the thought of Blaise’s dark limbs tangled with Draco’s lean, pale ones; hot breaths and white blond hair fanned out against Blaise’s deep red silk sheets that makes her say yes in the first place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [y3llowdaisi3s](https://archiveofourown.org/users/y3llowdaisi3s/gifts).



> Written for y3llowdaisi3s at the 2013 Hp 3somes Exchange Fest 
> 
> Thanks much to Mari, Mab and Cait for dealing with my crazy, and for the bad ass beta job this fic desperately needed. Special thanks to M for making me see sense. Twice!! This fic wouldn’t exist without the lovely help of a few fabulous ladies in a high-stakes room who made me write and push through the hard parts. ;) y3llowdaisi3s I hope you enjoy! I did my best!
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Blaise catches up with her after work when she’s just about ready to leave and suggests drinks at the pub they usually frequent. Hermione knows she shouldn’t, because drinks with Blaise usually turns into sex with Blaise, and she really needs to get hold of herself where that’s concerned. It’s not that she doesn’t like the sex--she loves the sex--it’s just that Blaise takes her to a place she’s not quite sure she’s ready to go. Her sex life with Ron had been adventurous--Ron was as randy as any other man in his early twenties, and she’s not a prude by any means--but with Blaise it’s different. He brings out something in her that makes her, well, insatiable, if she’s to be quite honest.

Hermione never wanted anything serious. She’s not ready to settle down, and neither was Ron, so they decided to see other people. This eventually morphed into Ron shagging half of London and Hermione shagging, well, mainly Blaise. And now that things with Ron are over, a tiny part of her wonders if she actually is ready to settle down, but perhaps, not with the man she always thought it would be.

But then, it’s thoughts like this that get her into trouble. She and Blaise agreed to keep it causal. It wouldn’t do to be the one who caves and asks for more; she still has her pride after all. All of these thoughts flash through her head in a few quick seconds, and Blaise is in her office for less than a minute before she agrees, like she always does.

In order to make herself not look like she’s been squabbling with bigoted Wizards for Goblin rights all day, she Apparates to her flat and takes a quick shower, pulling on her favourite black dress and heels. She spends the next ten minutes trying, and mostly failing, to stuff her hair into a loose ponytail, and then she Disapparates. 

 

She spots Blaise in their usual booth, still in his suit, although his top button has been undone and his jacket is draped neatly over the back of his chair. His face looks freshly shaven, showing off the dimple in his chin that she loves to trace with her tongue. He bites his lower lip and threads it through his teeth, the way he does when he’s distracted or impatient. 

Hermione makes her way over to him in a few purposeful strides, her heels clicking against the ancient stone floors of the pub. He looks up and catches her eye, watching her intently as she comes closer to him. He’s tall and broad shouldered with a tapered waist and a flat chest that she loves to rest her palms on when she rides his cock. She loves his face, loves the sharp angle of his jaw and the smooth perfection of brown, clear skin.

Blaise’s eyes trail appreciatively over her body and her stomach flutters at the intense, unexpected scrutiny. 

The corners of his lips twitch in amusement. ‘You’ve changed,’ he says. His voice is a warm, deep baritone and it floats above general hubbub of the evening crowd, warming her insides.

‘I did,’ she says, sitting next to him.

He pushes a mug of bitter in front of her and smiles. ‘Drink up.’

She takes a sip of her drink while he watches her.

‘You know,’ he says. ‘When you wear that dress, it usually means we’re going to have sex.’

Her face heats. ‘Maybe we are,’ she says, smiling slyly into her mug and taking a sip of her beer.

She fits neatly under his arm and he smells of some sort of musky cologne she is sure costs more than her entire wardrobe. To her disappointment, he moves over to give her more room, rolling up the cuffs of his sleeves as he goes. Hermione spares a moment to admire his nicely toned forearms and she vaguely wonders how many workouts a week it takes for Blaise to keep looking the way he does. She can’t imagine he gets much physical exercise at Gringotts.

‘In that case,’ Blaise says. ‘I might as well tell you we’ll have some company tonight.’ 

 

He looks at her briefly before signalling to the waitress behind her. Without looking, she knows that some poor young girl is skipping over her feet to come to his aid. It never ceases to amaze her the way Blaise can charm anyone into doing exactly what he wants. It had worked with her after all. Not that she needed much convincing. They’d been pushed together a lot over the years, what with Ron and Draco working together as Cursebreakers for Gringotts. Over time, she’d come to realise Blaise wasn’t what she’d expected. 

What surprised her most was his intelligence. His knowledge of both the Wizarding and Muggle stock markets and the perplexing conversions between the two never ceases to amaze her. He’s warm and open with his friends, but standoffish with people he’s just met. 

At first she thought it was only his Pureblood arrogance coming into play, but after time, she realised that Blaise was actually quite shy.

She smiles as the waitress deposits a fresh pitcher of bitter and two extra mugs onto the table.

‘Who then?’ Hermione asks as the waitress leaves.

‘My partner in crime,’ Blaise says, waggling his eyebrows.

Hermione rolls her eyes. ‘Do you mean, Malfoy?’

‘Draco,’ Blaise says giving her a look. ‘And drink up.’ He refills her mug and pushes it towards her. ‘Fun times are ahead.’

She raises an eyebrow and takes a sip of her drink, noting his tone. Blaise only talks like that when he has something decidedly devious under his sleeve. She would be nervous if she wasn’t certain that whatever Blaise has planned would only be for her delectation and delight. Blaise is, if anything, a considerate lover.

‘So,’ he says. ‘You’ve worked with Draco a few times, haven’t you?’

She gives him a look, trying to ignore the urge to squirm in her seat. ‘Occasionally I suppose,’ she says.

Blaise fixes her with a level stare. ‘And..?’

‘And what, Blaise? How much have you had already?’ she says, pressing her palm against his cheek.

He smirks and takes her wrist, lightly trailing his fingers in her palm. ‘I’ve had a few,’ he says. ‘Why are you avoiding the question?’

‘What question? You haven’t asked me anything.’

‘I’m asking you what you think of my friend.’

Her eyes dart to the door of the pub and back. ‘Why are you asking?’

Blaise shrugs, and then pours himself a new glass of bitter. ‘Oh, I’m just wondering. You look at him quite a lot, did you know that?’

Her face heats. ‘Well, he’s...’

Blaise leans in closer. ‘He’s..?’

‘Well, he’s quite nice to look at, isn’t he?’

Blaise leans back into his seat, smiling triumphantly. ‘See! I knew it. I knew you’ve been looking.’

He signals a waitress again and then orders a few shots of Firewhiskey, which means sex is a solid guarantee tonight.

She rolls her eyes. ‘So, you got me to admit I occasionally ogle your best friend, and this calls for celebration?’

Blaise only smiles, deepening the dimple in his left cheek. ‘Perhaps.’

Hermione knocks back the shot, relishing the burn as it slides down her throat. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, and when she opens them, Blaise is staring at her avidly. The muscles in her stomach contract pleasurably.

‘So,’ she says. ‘Is he seeing anyone?’

Blaise’s eyebrows shoot up, and then he smiles a slow, entirely too self satisfied smile. ‘He is,’ he says cryptically.

‘Do I know her?’ she asks.

Blaise takes a shot of his Firewhiskey, and Hermione follows suit. ‘What makes you think it’s a “her”?’

She drops her shotglass hard on the table and splutters slightly. ‘Malfoy’s gay?’

She takes can’t keep the surprise out of her voice. She’d always thought Mlafoy was a bit of a ladies’ man, what with the way most of the women in the office fall over themselves when he’s around. But the knowledge Draco is gay sparks a flame of interest that burrows itself deep in her belly. She’s not sure if she wants to examine the reaction too closely.

She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t been looking. Malfoy is quite handsome. He’s grown as tall as Ron, but without Ron’s gangly, lean look. Malfoy is broader and more muscular than her ex-lover though, and he seems to favour leather pants and Dragonhide boots more than is strictly necessary. They don’t speak much. He still calls her Granger, and she calls him Malfoy. He’s always polite, never giving her more or less acknowledgement than she deserves. He wears his hair long now, but it’s thicker, wavier and even lighter than his father’s, so Hermione is never unpleasantly reminded of Lucius. But he’s so incredibly aloof and distant with her that she’s never even allowed herself to dwell on thoughts of him the way most of the other women at the office do. Maybe it’s due to their history, though if Ron could put that aside to work with Malfoy, then she certainly could. She knows he's changed. They all have.

Blaise looks at her briefly. ‘I’m not saying he is, but would that be a problem for you?’

‘What? No, of course not. I—I’m just surprised.’

He raises an eyebrow. ‘Why is that?’

‘Well. He always seems so... charming. Most of the women in the office are just completely enamoured with him.’

‘And you?’

She shrugs, electing not to answer, but Blaise sees right through her.

He laughs. ‘It’s all right Hermione. He does it to all of us.’

She lets out a brief tickle of laughter. ‘Even you?’ she asks in what she hopes is an offhand way.

They share a long, intense gaze that makes her breaths quicken.

‘Occasionally,’ he says.

She’s not even sure how she should process that answer, but it immediately lends her a mental image: Blaise’s dark limbs tangled with Draco’s lean, pale ones; hot breaths and white blond hair fanned out against Blaise’s deep red silk sheets. She squirms slightly, feeling her pelvic muscles contract and the answering heat rising between her legs.

‘You look a bit flushed.’

She looks at him. ‘So you and Draco are seeing each other?’ she says, trying to ignore the brief flicker of jealousy. A confusing emotion, considering what she was just thinking of.

‘Not in the way you’re thinking,’ Blaise says. ‘He’s not exactly available. We just get together occasionally. 

Kind of like you and I, yes?’

‘I suppose,’ Hermione says, silently contemplating how it feels to realise Blaise sees whatever it is they do as an occasional thing.

She supposes it is. They’ve never talked about it being anything more. But it is a little disappointing.

Her thoughts are becoming confusing and muddled, and entirely too heavy to contemplate on shots of Firewhiskey, so she pushes them aside for now.

‘Is it someone I know?’ she asks.

Blaise opens his mouth to respond, but something catches his eye, and he closes it abruptly.

‘You can ask him yourself,’ he says. ‘Here he comes.’

Her eyes flick to the pub’s entrance, where she can see Draco weaving through groups of people, saying hello to a few and nodding politely as he goes along. Someone from the group of MLEs huddled in the corner of the pub calls out, ‘Hey Cursebreaker! Catch any jewels today?’ Malfoy just laughs and lifts two fingers in their general direction. He’s wearing black fitted jeans and a grey shirt, with his sleeves rolled up and the first few buttons of his collar undone; his overcoat is draped over his right arm.

The scars from his Dark Mark have been covered up with some kind of tattoo, but she can’t make out from this far away. Blaise raises his hand and Malfoy spots them, his grey eyes widening a little when he sees Hermione.

‘You didn’t tell him I’d be here, did you?’ Hermione says under her breath.

Draco reaches their booth and sits gracefully in the seat opposite them, his eyes firmly fixed on Blaise. 

‘I didn’t know we were going to have company Blaise,’ he says, tossing his overcoat on to the empty seat next to him.

Blaise grins. ‘It’s only Hermione.’

They stare silently at each other for a moment and then Malfoy looks at Hermione, nodding politely. ‘Good evening, Gr—Hermione,’ he amends with a quick look at Blaise.

‘Hullo, Draco,’ she says. Using his name feels somehow more intimate than she’s used to, and it sends a thrill down her spine.

He still wears his Malfoy signet ring on his index finger, and there’s a thin silver chain around his neck with a pendant that looks suspiciously like a Gryffindor lion. When he sees her looking, his face reddens slightly, and he fingers the pendant for a second longer before grabbing a shot of Firewhiskey and downing it a quick gulp.

The trio shares an awkward moment of silence before Blaise orders them another round of Firewhiskey and starts talking business with Draco. Hermione doesn’t mind quietly listening for a while. She looks between the two men, at the way Draco leans across the table and smiles softly every few minutes. Or the way he holds his mug in one hand, tapping his signet ring on the glass. The way Blaise rubs his hand across his shaved head from front to back, and the way he smiles with his tongue between his teeth. Blaise’s voice is soothing, and his enthusiasm rises with everything he says. Hermione is witnessing two best friends, and the way they connect is so different from her, Harry and Ron, and yet entirely the same.

Blaise stretches his arms across the back of the booth and the hand closest to Hermione brushes against the nape of her neck. The vee of his shirt opens wider, revealing sharp collar bones and smooth brown skin. She’s tasted that skin before. She’s dug her nails into his back and arched beneath his weight.

‘What do you think, Hermione?’ Blaise says, pulling her out her reverie.

‘What?’ she says, glancing between the two.

Draco is looking at her with an inscrutable expression, and Blaise is wearing the kind of grin that he usually wears just before he buries his face between her legs.

‘Your boyfriend thinks he can drink us both under the table,’ Draco says, with a smile playing around his lips.

She raises her eyebrows, both at the term and the claim.

Blaise eyes Draco with a faint warning in his eye and then looks at Hermione. ‘So, what do you think, sweetheart?’

Hermione smiles. ‘Bring on the Firewhiskey.’ 

 

An hour later and the collar of Blaise’s shirt has widened appreciably, Draco has a flush on his cheeks that has nothing to do with the heat of the pub, and Hermione is more turned on than she should be in any public place.

It doesn’t help that Blaise keeps looking at her as though she’s some kind of sex goddess, and Draco’s eyes keep lingering on the swell of her breasts, just visible over the deep cut of her dress.

When Blaise suggests Apparating to his flat before it no longer becomes an option, Hermione readily agrees, and after a moment’s hesitation, in which Draco fingers his necklace distractedly, so does Draco.

They settle up their bill with the waitress --well, Hermione does, since neither Draco nor Blaise, financial geniuses they are, can seem to decipher between Galleons, Knuts and Sickles at the moment.

When they’re all safely outdoors and bundled up against the cold wind, they all head to the Apparition point a few blocks away.

Blaise holds her hand, linking their fingers together, and Hermione is pleasantly surprised and suddenly quite warm.

Draco trails behind them, hands in his pockets. When Hermione glances back at him, her hair whipping in her face, he looks up at her and smiles. She smiles back, loving the way the wind tousles his hair in all directions, softening his features and making him seem young and light and completely without baggage.

She turns back to Blaise, who seems to be having a harder time walking straight than the rest of them, and smiles, squeezing their fingers together. When they reach the apparition point, a deserted alleyway between two brick walls, Draco is a few paces behind them and Blaise uses the moment of solitude to pull her against him, his back against the wall.

He says her name softly under his breath before pressing his lips against hers. She sighs and leans into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and opening her mouth under his. He groans into her mouth and flicks his tongue out to brush against hers. He tastes of Firewhisky and something vaguely sweet. He threads her fingers into her hair and the press of his palm against her skull makes her pores raise and her nipples harden and rub pleasantly against the fabric of her dress. The faint sound of footsteps behind them signals that Draco has caught up, and she moves to pull away, but Blaise holds her head in place a moment longer, nipping on her bottom lip. Her breath catches, and a thrill of pleasure curls down her spine from the knowledge that Draco is seeing this. That he’s watching.

When their lips part, Blaise’s eyes flick to Draco, and a slow, knowing smile spreads across Draco face.

She leans into Blaise’s body, pleasantly sinking into the warmth of the alcohol coursing throughout her body. She vaguely notices Blaise reaching behind her, and when she’s glances back, she sees that he’s hooked his fingers into one of Draco’s belt loops, pulling him forward, pressing Hermione between them. She can feel Draco’s hot breath against the nape of her neck as the three of them press into each other and Blaise Apparates them all into his flat.

 

 

Draco steps away from them both as they pop into existence, and Hermione does the same, straightening out her dress as she moves. Draco slouches out of his jacket, moving around the flat with a familiarity that immediately brings back to mind the image of dark limbs tangled with pale, muscular ones. Hermione leans her back against the wall, feeling the buzz of the alcohol suddenly coursing through her, as if in a second wave of attack. She unbuttons her coat, watching through heavy lidded eyes as Draco helps Blaise with his over coat. She watches Draco’s pale, tapered finger skim over the wool cloth of Blaise’s shoulders. She watches as Blaise arches his back and lets Draco slide his coat and jacket as one over his shoulders.

Blaise turns in his arms and they face each other with almost nothing in between them, and all Hermione can do is watch and feel the dampness steadily increasing at the apex of her thighs. Blaise again hooks his fingers in Draco’s belt loops, pulling him forward, and Draco allows it with a soft grunt. Blaise lowers his mouth to Draco’s neck, and Draco’s eyes flick to Hermione.

‘We have an audience, Blaise,’ he says in a husky voice that leaves Hermione almost breathless.

Blaise looks up, peeking at her from the space beneath Draco’s jaw. ‘So we do.’ 

Draco’s turns his gaze to Hermione, his eyes roaming over her body in a way that makes her feel curiously exposed.

She wants to say, ‘Oh, don’t mind me,’ but Blaise has already pulled away from Draco, moving towards her with the same deliberation of a panther approaching its prey.

‘Shall we let her join in, Draco?’ Blaise says in an undertone, still looking at Hermione.

Draco locks eyes with hers. ‘I think she would very much like it if we did,’ he says with too much grace for someone who’s just downed at least six shots of Firewhiskey.

Her coat falls to the floor, and she looks at Blaise as he approaches her. He doesn’t kiss her. Instead, he presses his pelvis into hers and she gasps when she feels the evidence of his arousal. He watches her with a raised eyebrow as if to say, What now, Ms. Granger?’

‘Yes,’ she says. She doesn’t know exactly what question she’s answering, only that it’s the only answer she wants to give.

He presses his chest against hers and buries his face in her neck, trailing soft kisses on her pulse before tasting the length of her collarbone with his tongue. She gasps and lets her head fall back against the wall, arching her body into his. His fingers lightly trace the hem of her dress, and then he slides his fingers underneath the fabric, lifting her dress and cupping her ass in his palms, kneading it in his fingers.

She rests her chin on Blaise’s shoulder, watching Draco, watching them. Draco’s mouth is slightly parted and he’s not-so-discreetly adjusting himself in his trousers. Blaise turns his head and follows her gaze.

‘Isn’t he beautiful?’ Blaise asks.

‘Yes,’ she says, not taking her eyes off of Draco. His cheeks turn slightly red, and he shifts his stance.

‘And so are you,’ Blaise says, looking at her with a heated gaze.

He pulls away from her and steps back next to Draco, hooking an arm around the other man’s waist. Draco’s gaze on Hermione never wavers.

‘Isn’t she, Draco?’ Blaise asks, placing his free hand against his friend’s chest, fingers splayed and pushing into the small spaces between Draco’s shirt buttons.

‘She is,’ Draco says. His eyes flick to Blaise. ‘But I’m not sure I―’

Blaise lifts his finger to his friend’s lips. ‘You want to, don’t you?’

Draco eyes his friend, and Hermione watches as Draco’s eyes drop to Blaise’s mouth. ‘Kiss him,’ she wants to say, but she doesn’t. In any case, it’s as if they’ve heard her thoughts, because Draco presses his lips against Blaise’s and they kiss, slow and lazy and familiar, and Hermione’s stomach is liquid fire. When they break apart, Draco mutters something that sounds vaguely like, ‘You bastard,’ before unbuttoning his shirt. He pulls it off without fanfare and drops it onto Blaise’s sofa.

Hermione isn’t as surprised by the lean, pale chest and slightly pink nipples as she is by the line of dark blonde hair that leaves a trail from Draco’s navel, disappearing temptingly into his leather trousers. She can see clearly now that the tattoo over the faded scar of the Dark Mark is that of a phoenix, and she feels a deep pang of softness in her heart for him. Draco looks at her briefly again before crossing the room and disappearing into the hallway.

Hermione looks questioningly at Blaise.

‘He’s gone to the bedroom,’ Blaise says. ‘Probably to look at himself in the mirror. He likes things just so, our Draco.’

Hermione, startled to hear Draco referred to in such a way, doesn’t say anything. She loosens her ponytail and revels in the way Blaise is looking at her now. He loves her hair, for some reason she’ll never understand. He likes to bury his fingers in it and he doesn’t even mind when he sometimes has to spend five minutes slowly untangling them. She closes the distance between them and he kisses her again, moaning into her mouth when she presses her breasts into his chest.

When he pulls away, he looks at her for a moment. ‘Are you sure?’ he asks. ‘We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.’

She steps back, heart swelling at the level of concern in his eyes. ‘I’m sure,’ she says. ‘But Mal― Draco seems a little hesitant.’

Blaise frowns. ‘Don’t worry about that,’ he says. ‘He’s just letting things get to his head.’

‘Blaise, I―’

He kisses her softly. ‘Don’t worry about it, love. The tosser he’s fucking around with doesn’t deserve him anyway.’

She looks at him for a moment and Blaise trails his fingertips on her collarbone. ‘It’s all right, Hermione.’

She steps away from him and then nods. Everything in her is screaming at her to do this. She’s never been more sexually intrigued than she is right now.

‘Lead the way.’

He smiles slowly, kisses her forehead and then takes her hand, leading her down the familiar path to his bedroom.

Draco is lying in Blaise’s bed; feet crossed at the ankles, still in his boots, his trousers undone at the waist.

When they walk in, he raises an eyebrow. ‘Took you long enough.’

 

Blaise leads Hermione to the foot of the bed and leaves her there, choosing to sit in his armchair seated in front of his dresser. It’s turned at an angle so that he can watch. Hermione feels a thrill in her belly, intensified further by the heat of Draco’s gaze as he studies her, the tip of his index finger tracing his bottom lip, his signet ring glinting in the dim wandlight.

‘Draco, why don’t you make room for Hermione?’ Blaise says. ‘Let her join you on the bed.’

Draco’s eyes flick to Blaise and then, with slow, deliberate movements, he shifts to the left side of the bed using his forearms to lift his arse off the sheets. His pectoral muscles flex and his abs contract, and Hermione takes a moment to admire his body before sitting at the edge of the bed, toeing off her heels and crawling on all fours to sit next him.

Their shoulders are pressed against each other, and her dress has ridden up her thighs, exposing her long, lean legs. She can feel Draco’s body heat and smell his cologne. It’s is lighter and crisper than Blaise’s.

‘Touch her, why don’t you?’ Blaise says from his perch in his armchair, looking at them both with a carnal gaze.

Draco complies, lightly trailing her arms with his fingertips. She looks at him and becomes instantly lost in the deep grey of his eyes. He licks his lips slowly before taking her wrist and lifting it upwards, pressing it gently against the bed frame.

‘Do you mind?’ he asks with one pale brow raised. She shakes her head slowly, not trusting her voice.

He murmurs a spell and her hand is bound against the post with a soft leather strap. He reaches over her clasping her other wrist, binding it to the other side of the bed. He pulls away from her and his eyes drop to her lips.

‘Lay down,’ he says softly.

She can feel his hot breath ghosting along her cheeks. She is suddenly wetter than she’s ever been before, and he gazes at her as if he knows; as if he can tell that at this very moment, her panties are being soaked by his mere whisper.

There is enough give in the leather that she can lay back comfortably on the bed with her arms suspended at either side of her head.

Draco lies next to her, propped on one arm, still gazing at her with those grey eyes. He lays his palm flat on her stomach and trails the fabric of her dress.

‘Silk,’ he says softly.

She smiles. For some reason, she finds it oddly endearing that he knows the feel of silk by touch.

She glances over his shoulder at Blaise, who has taken off his shirt, his brown skin glowing almost golden in the wandlight. His hand lightly cups his cock as he watches them both with keen eyes.

Draco cups her breast softly, and she arches into him. He finds her nipple under the fabric of her dress, and it instantly grows erect under his hand. He rubs his nail over her nipple once, twice, and then he pulls down the top of her dress, exposing her breast. He gazes at it for a moment before leaning over to take her nipple into his mouth. She cries out, shuddering a little when he gently worries her nipple between his teeth.

After a only a short while, he removes his mouth and slides his palm down her body and then up under her dress, pushing up and exposing her panties.

‘Lace, Blaise,’ he says, looking over his shoulder. ‘They’re lace.’

She hears Blaise’s soft groan, and her eyes flick over to him. Blaise stands, pushing down his trousers, and is now fully naked, his cock fully erect and pressing up against his stomach.

Draco presses his palm flat against her panties.

‘Shall I remove them for you?’ he asks. At first she thinks he’s talking to her, but he looks at Blaise who is still standing in front of his armchair, languidly stroking his cock.

In a few quick strides, Blaise walks over to the edge of the bed, gripping the bedpost with his fingers, staring down at them both. 

‘Yes,’ he says in a low voice that makes Hermione squirm and arch her spine. She pushes the mound of her cunt into the warm palm, still resting lightly on the front of her panties.

Draco murmurs something softly, and her panties are gone. His palm now rests flat against her skin, hot and heavy and full of promise.

Blaise sits at the edge of the bed and they both look down at her. Blaise stokes the outside of her thighs and then lifts her foot so she is forced to bend her legs at the knee. Draco mirrors his action on her other leg and they both stroke the inside of her thighs. She squirms as they both pull her legs to the side and spread her open, exposing her completely. When Draco’s fingers brush against her cunt she lifts her hips up almost arching up off the bed.

‘I think she wants you to touch her, Draco,’ Blaise says.

‘Does she now?’ 

She locks her eyes with Draco’s. ‘Yes.’ 

He looks at her for a long moment, his breathing shallow, his mouth halfway open, and then his fingers are spreading her folds and slowly stroking her slit. 

‘Oh fuck, you’re so wet,’ he murmurs.

He slips one finger inside her, curling his knuckle, gently exploring her cunt. When she moans and arches under him, he gently pulls his finger out and spreads her wetness onto her folds, like a painter using his fingers. Blaise is watching them both, his eyes dark and wide, and almost feral. Draco slides his finger into her again, and she moans deeply, spreading her legs wider, not caring how wanton she looks. He gently rubs her clit with his thumb, and she moans loudly, undulating her hips slightly and pressing herself into his hands.

Blaise moves around the side of the bed, edging himself onto the mattress and bracing himself with one knee. He unfastens one of her bindings and guides her hand to his groin. She wraps her fingers around his cock, still dripping with precum, and fingers the slit, slowly, spreading his precum around the head of his cock. Blaise groans and bucks into her hand, and she gently starts to stroke him, still sinking into waves of pleasure as Draco teases her with his fingers. 

Blaise moans softly, and Draco removes his hand from her cunt, watching with pupils blown wide as Hermione takes the head of Blaise’s cock into her mouth and as deep down her throat as she can manage. She bobs her head up and down, hollowing her cheeks as she sucks and a small sound escapes Draco’s lips. Draco Vansishes her other binding so that both her hands are free, and she uses her other hand to reach for Draco’s cock, slowly fisting it in time with the bobbing motions of her head on Blaise’s cock.

‘Oh fuck, Hermione.’

She isn’t sure which one of them says it, but it spurs her along, and soon they’re both moaning her name and massaging her breasts. When Blaise reaches across her body, cupping the back of Draco’s head with his palm, bringing their lips together into a kiss, her rhythm falters. They are simply beautiful together. Blaise rakes his fingers through Draco’s hair, and Draco drops his jaw, angling his head so Blaise can posses his mouth. Their tongues slide along each other’s in the most seductive display Hermione has ever witnessed, and her cunt now aches to be filled. 

When they pull away from each other they both look down at her, still in her dress, panting lightly, with two hard cocks in her hands. Blaise moves first, crawling over her and bracing himself with his palms on either side of her body. He lowers his chest down to hers, pressing her into the mattress as he kisses her deeply. She moans into his mouth, relishing the feel of his chest pressing into hers. She rolls her hips, grinding her cunt against his cock, and they rut against each other for a few hot seconds. Blaise pushes himself up off her, and buries his face in her neck, breathing hot puffs of air against her skin. He licks a hot stripe against the side of her throat, and she cries out as he kisses the sensitive skin behind her ear.

‘I want you on top,’ Blaise says, nibbling gently on her earlobe. ‘And I want your ass.’

Hermione’s breath catches, and he possessively cups her breast, flicking her nipple with his thumbnail.

He lifts himself up off of her body, and she is only vaguely aware of his movements as he lifts her up so that she is on all fours. He disappears behind her so she is again face to face with Draco, who is now fully naked and slowly fisting his leaking cock. They lock eyes, and she feels her face flush, thinking about how she must look: hot and flushed and eager for Blaise’s cock to fill her ass.

Blaise parts her ass cheeks, and she keeps her eyes locked on Draco’s, even as the first swipe of Blaise’s tongue on her hole makes her shudder with want. Draco moves closer to her, and he traces her lips with the head of his cock. She flicks her tongue out, loving the salty, heady taste of his precum. 

Blaise is tonguing her ass in earnest now. She moans onto Draco’s cock, and he groans in response. He pushes the head of his cock between her lips and starts fucking her mouth with slow, controlled stokes.

Blaise replaces his tongue with one finger, then two, and she pushes her hips back, impaling herself on his fingers. Her ass has always been sensitive, but tonight it seems lined with nerve endings that connect straight to her clit. She feels her wetness increasing, slicking her folds even more. Draco pulls out of her mouth with a groan, and then he takes his hand and strokes her hair gently off her forehead. She shivers under his touch.

‘I need a minute,’ he says.

Draco looks up, and she knows he’s looking at Blaise --looking at Blaise as he places the head of his cock at her hole, as he pushes into her, stretches her and with a muttered Oh, fuck, slips deep into her ass. He pulls out almost fully and then pushes back into her again, setting up a slow, almost torturous pace. She moans, feeling each press of Blaise’s cock thrill her insides, giving her waves of pleasure she’s not quite sure she’s ever experienced. Maybe it’s because Draco’s grey eyes never waver from hers. They never cease in their examination of her being fucked to pieces on his best friend’s cock.

Blaise pulls her up off of her palms, pulling her back up against his chest, pressing his palm flat against her stomach. She lifts her arm and wraps it around his neck, and he licks a trail along the shell of her ear. Draco watches them, standing at the edge of the bed with his mouth half open. Blaise is panting heavily into her hair, roughly palming her breasts as they bounce in time with his hard thrusts into her ass. He thrusts into her in one hard, deep stroke, almost throwing her off balance, and she cries out.

‘Do you want Draco to fuck you, too?’ he says.

She groans. ‘Yes,’ she manages to say between shallow, noisy breaths. ‘Oh, God. Yes, I do.’

Blaise pulls out of her and lays flat on his back, pulling her close to him by grabbing onto her thighs. He is halfway propped up from the pillows behind his back, his thighs wide open and his hard cock clasped loosely in his hand.

Hermione looks back at Draco, who is now at the edge of the bed, slowly crawling closer to her on all fours. Suddenly, she understands what they want, and she is almost ready to come just from the thought of them both inside her at the same time.

Blaise positions his cock at her hole and pulls her down onto him hard, entering her ass even deeper than before. Then Draco is descending upon her, pushing her back to lay on Blaise’s chest, positioning his cock at her slit, rubbing the head in slow circles around the swell of her clit. She whimpers.

‘God, Draco.’

Grey eyes flick up to hers, and he hesitates. She looks at Draco, breathing hard, almost losing herself in the feel of Blaise rotating his hips beneath her. 

‘Please, Draco.’ 

Draco closes eyes and then fills her cunt with his cock. She arches her back and cries out, her body shuddering at the sensation of his cock finally inside her. He’s no thicker than Blaise, but he’s longer, and he fills her completely. He braces himself with his arms on either side of her body, and Blaise shifts inside her ass. She is almost overloaded with sensation. She grips Draco’s arms, feeling the hard bulge of his triceps and the shifting of his muscles. Draco takes one of her breasts into his mouth, and she bucks beneath him, making both Blaise and Draco groan at the same time. 

Draco’s eyes are shut tight, his long lashes damp with sweat. She feels the muscles in his back and shoulders flex with each thrust. His cock curves perfectly upwards inside her, brushing her G-spot with each stroke. Her thighs begin to quiver, and she can feel herself rising and rising, coming closer to her release. 

She wraps her arms around his neck. ‘Look at me, Draco,’ she murmurs, and his eyes fly open, his pupils so dilated that there is almost no grey left. 

She locks him in her gaze and moves her hips experimentally, urging both men into a careful rhythm. They catch on, and soon they’re, all three of them, in sync. She is completely filled, and Draco’s groin presses against her clit with each deep stroke of his cock. She is climbing higher and higher on waves of pure pleasure, and the room fills with the sounds of their hot breaths and low moans. Her legs are almost spread-eagled as Draco’s strokes become faster, and he pushes her against Blaise, increasing their pace together.

‘Oh, fuck,’ Draco murmurs. ‘Fuck.’ Draco pulls out and sits back on his haunches with his knees on either side of Blaise’s thighs. ‘I want to watch.’

Draco takes each of her thighs into his hands, lifting her legs apart so he has a clear view of Blaise pumping into her ass. Blaise groans and increases his pace, and Hermione feels her orgasm bearing down on her even more, now that she is on display for Draco and his eyes are fixed on both her holes. He looks at her as though mesmerised, and she loves it; she loves that just the sight of her brings him pleasure. 

She feels the warm spurt of Blaise's come in her ass, and he lets out a harsh moan, massaging her tits roughly with his last few, erratic strokes. Draco releases her thighs and plunges back into her cunt, pumping her hard and fast, with Blaise’s half hard cock still inside her. When he reaches between her thighs and rubs her clit, once, twice, she comes with such force that he has to hold her hips to keep her in place as he pounds her cunt. She scratches her nails down his back and he comes hard inside of her. Draco pulls out, spraying the last bits of his come onto her stomach.

Draco moves away from her, and Hermione rolls off of Blaise, moaning slightly as he slips out of her ass. She lays there spent, not caring how undignified she looks. She’s been thoroughly shagged and she’s still floating on the high of one of the most glorious orgasms of her life. She’s still working out the last few tremors when she feels Blaise’s arm around her, pulling her close. He nibbles her jaw and she curls into him, sighing contentedly.

‘You’re amazing,’ he says, pulling away and looking into her eyes.

‘So are you,’ Hermione says.

She glances around for Draco, but he’s no longer in the room.

Blaise pulls her against his chest. ‘Don’t worry about him,’ he says. ‘He’ll be fine.’

‘What is it with him and whoever it is he’s with? Are they serious?’

Blaise sighs and leans back, placing one arm under his head. Hermione wraps one leg around his body and trails her finger along his chest.

‘I don’t know Hermione,’ he says. ‘Draco’s complicated. That much I know for certain.’

He looks down at her. ‘Draco usually doesn’t do ‘serious’, but I’m starting to wonder if he’s changed his mind.’

Hermione contemplates this, thinking of Draco’s pendant, and the way he sometimes looks at her with an apology in his eyes. Her heart thuds in her chest as the pieces about click together.

‘They’re bit like us then,’ she says softly

She doesn’t pretend not to notice the way Blaise suddenly tenses beneath her, or the way his heart starts to pound in his chest.

‘Would―’ he begins and then he clears his throat. ‘Would it be a good thing? I mean. If we were to think about being serious.’

Hermione kisses the swath of skin just above his nipple, thinking fondly about the look on his face when he peeks into her office several times a day or his smile when he looks at her across the boardroom table. The way he brings her lunch on Tuesdays just after her weekly meetings at the Ministry, or the way he’s been inside her like no one else has.

‘Definitely a good thing,’ she says.

He kisses her hair, and she strokes his chest until his breaths deepen and he is motionless with sleep. She moves away from him carefully and then stands, pulling on a shirt from the floor, not certain whether it’s Blaise’s or Draco’s.

 

She finds Draco in the kitchen, smoking a cigarette next to the open window. She takes a minute to study his profile. He stands gloriously naked and completely unselfconscious, fingering his necklace absently while he takes deep drags of his cigarette with shaking fingers.

He is beautiful, and in the moonlight, he looks utterly vulnerable with the way his long lashes curl down onto his cheek and the slight tremor in his hands as he stubs out the cigarette against the wooden window frame.

‘Are you all right?’ she asks.

He doesn’t jump; he doesn’t tense his shoulders. It’s as if he knows she’s been there all along, but Hermione knows he couldn’t have. He’s just that controlled.

‘I’m fine,’ he says, and then he looks at her. ‘Are you?’

‘Absolutely.’

She moves closer to him, and touches his arm lightly with her fingertips.

‘How long have you been seeing each other?’ she asks.

His eyes then flick to her face and then back the window.

‘Long enough,’ he says.

She sighs and then she gently plucks the cigarette from his hand, stubbing it out on the window frame.

‘You should talk to him, Draco,’ she says.

His eyes widen in surprise, and then he slowly smiles, pulling another cigarette from behind his ear.

‘You’re not what I expected,’ he says.

She smiles. ‘Neither are you.’

He lights his cigarette with his fingertips, taking a deep drag and closing his eyes, letting his head fall against the wall behind him.

‘I won’t say anything to him,’ she says. ‘If that’s what you’re worried about.’

He looks at her, and his grey eyes seem to shine even more in the dim light from the moon.

‘We’re not—it’s not...’ But whatever it’s not, he can’t seem to put into words. He takes a deep drag of his cigarette, exhales slowly and plumes of white smoke unfurl from his nostrils.

‘Thank you,’ he says. ‘I appreciate that.’

She smiles. ‘It’s no problem. I had fun tonight. You were amazing.’

Draco’s mouth twitches and he looks down at his toes. ‘Go to bed, Granger,’ he says.

She puts her hand over his, and he looks up again, eyebrows raised.

‘It’s Hermione,’ she says, and then she pulls away, walking back out of the kitchen. When she’s almost into the hallway, she stops and looks back at him.

‘Come back to bed, Draco,’ she says, and then she walks away.

She crawls back into the bed next to Blaise, curling into his body and resting her head on his chest. Just as her eyes are heavy with sleep and she’s all but faded away, she feels Draco’s weight on the bed as he slips in behind her. She shifts, pressing her back against his chest, and when his fingers tentatively slip around her waist, she smiles and drifts into sleep.


End file.
